[sandbox]

[bringspeopletogether]

Back to Skyhold. Back to work.

Alistair resumes training with the Chargers a few days after his and Cullen's return; the company got back from Halamshiral just before the Basin group showed up, Bull explains, so he was giving them a rest before picking up exercises again. Krem fills Alistair in on all the details as they're exchanging blows. Some of it is just Orlesian Worst Game Ever nonsense, but since it ends with a whole lot of shamefaced nobles with no mercenaries to their names, Alistair's pretty damn pleased.

(Maybe he can get the new mercenaries in on his plan to dress up the training dummies in Orlesian garb. Hmmmmmm.)

Cullen's in a war room meeting by the time Alistair's done. He throws some water on his face and heads for the kitchens -- maybe he can split a small meal with Kieran before Morrigan's return.

Comments

[bringspeopletogether]

And he was doing so well at maintaining his composure.

...All right, he wasn't. At all. But at that, Alistair gives up on maintaining it entirely, wrapping his arms around Cullen as he buries his face against his shoulder.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen doesn't say anything -- just leans his head against Alistair's, arms tight around him, rocking slowly back and forth.

[bringspeopletogether]

It takes some time, but eventually, Alistair subsides as the worst of the emotion leaches away.

He exhales, turns his head just enough to touch his lips to Cullen's neck: another thank-you, silent as it may be.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen grips a little tighter for a moment. If this is where Alistair feels comfortable, far be it from Cullen to be the one to let go first.

[bringspeopletogether]

No complaints from Alistair.

He clings for another moment or two before, slowly, easing his hold. He scrubs the heel of his palm across his eyes, not even trying to be discreet about it.

[howtoactfereldan]

Discretion is overrated.

He runs his palm up and down Alistair's back, watching, worried.

[bringspeopletogether]

"'M all right," he mumbles, in direct contradiction to...well, everything. A long breath follows. "Had to..."

An absent gesture toward his face.

"Keep it together for Kieran. Very strict rules. Only one Theirin crying at a time."

[howtoactfereldan]

A quiet laugh.

"Stupid rule," he tells Alistair.

[bringspeopletogether]

That garners a tiny smile. Alistair scrubs his eyes again, then resumes leaning against Cullen.

"Thought so, too. That's the real reason I didn't want to be king. Too much time checking schedules if you need a good cry."

[howtoactfereldan]

"And you've got to be in fancy dress all the time." Cullen runs his hand up and down Alistair's back. "No thank you."

[bringspeopletogether]

A watery chuckle.

"Yes. Right down to the smalls, probably. Bet they've got gold trim and diamonds all over them."

[howtoactfereldan]

Conversationally:

"How uncomfortable that must be."

[bringspeopletogether]

"Precisely."

Alistair's grin is much steadier now, and has a good deal more cheer to it.

"Bet that's why so many royals have that pained look on their faces all the time."

[howtoactfereldan]

"A solid conclusion, Theirin," Cullen murmurs into his hair. "Well reasoned."

[bringspeopletogether]

Comfortably: "I thought so, too."

He lets his eyes drift closed.

[howtoactfereldan]

The morning will be a good enough time to tell Alistair that it might be a good idea to stay armed until they know Lavellan's fate.

Only one of us gets to fall apart at a time, he thinks, and touches his lips to Alistair's forehead.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair has no intention of sleeping yet. Like son, like father, though: fear is exhausting, doubly so when you finally give it a path to rush out all at once.

He runs through the Warden oath like a canticle. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. Death comes for all Wardens sooner rather than later. If this is the end, so be it. He just doesn't want it to end like this, with the sky rent in two and the Fade come to claim him again.

But he can hold on to that little piece of him that isn't afraid. And hold on to Cullen, quite literally, as he gives in to sleep.

[howtoactfereldan]

Well.

He'll get a handful of hours in his own bed. Just not lying down.

With a small sigh, Cullen settles back against the headboard. This won't be the first time he's slept sitting up. It won't be the last.

[bringspeopletogether]

At some point, Alistair wakes himself up by slumping so far down the headboard that he gets a crick in his back. On the downside: this might wake up Cullen as well. On the upside: a chance to lie down properly.

He wakes up a few more times after that: quick stirs to wakefulness that pass within fifteen minutes.

Kieran, on the other hand, is up for good before first light. He stays on his pallet for a time, taking in his surroundings. Eventually he pads to Alistair's shelf of books to find something to read.

[howtoactfereldan]

When Alistair migrated, Cullen did too; he sleeps on his stomach, punching his pillow under his head.

It's hard to tell when, exactly, the sky lightens. But Cullen snaps awake while it still seems dark, after Kieran's foray.

Carefully -- if Alistair is asleep at last, Cullen doesn't want to wake him yet -- Cullen sits up, rubbing his face. He should do something about his stubble, but it seems... extremely unimportant, just at the moment.

Instead, he leans over to start putting his boots on.

[bringspeopletogether]

"Good morning, ser."

Kieran has manners enough to keep his voice to a whisper. Nobody likes being woken up too early, after all.

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen looks over his shoulder -- and smiles, tired but warm.

He nods toward the ladder, and whispers, "Shall we get breakfast?"

[bringspeopletogether]

Kieran returns the nod, solemnly. Tucking the book under one arm, he pushes to his feet and heads for the ladder.

"I think my boots are still downstairs," he whispers before he descends.

(They are. Alistair coaxed Kieran into taking them off when it looked like he was two minutes away from conking out.)

[howtoactfereldan]

Good. He has a moment, while Kieran finds his boots.

"Alistair." Softly, as he squeezes Alistair's shoulder. "Kieran and I will bring you breakfast. We won't be long."

Based on last night, if Alistair wakes to find both of them gone, Cullen isn't sure it will be possible to deal with the fallout.

[bringspeopletogether]

Alistair mumbles a few formless syllables; one clumsy hand extracts itself from the blankets so he can drag it down his face. He squints up at Cullen.

Blurrily: "...Food?"